


Blind Date

by DustySoul



Category: Captain America (Movies), Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blind Date, M/M, Matchmaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-03-31 17:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3986527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustySoul/pseuds/DustySoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt on the daredevil kink meme</p><p> </p><p>"Natasha figures out that her yenta-ing keeps falling flat because Steve would rather go out with a nice guy than a nice girl, so she sets him up on a date with this hot young lawyer who's been fighting for justice and defending the weak. Steve catnip, basically. </p><p>Steve's guiltily relieved to find out Matt is blind, just because maybe they can get through the first date without "Oh my god, you're Captain America?!" making things awkward. Then things get weird."</p><p> </p><p>http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/1296.html?thread=1590800#cmt1590800</p><p> </p><p>  <b>COMPLETE! </b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s a lot harder to shake off Natasha’s match making once she’s got a general idea of his type and adds guys into the mix.

“He’s a lawyer,” She catchers herself and Steve’s eye with a worried glance that probably isn’t genuine. “I mean, the good type of lawyer. He specializes in helping the poor and disenfranchised in Hell’s Kitchen, fighting the big mean cooperate interests and gentrification.”

She raises her eyebrows at the last word. Steve doesn’t live in Brooklyn specifically because of that problem. It doesn’t feel like home the way some of the abandoned, untouched parts of the city do. He sighs at her.

“What?” She says, open and earnest and playful. Natasha, at least to day, has been trying on emotions like she tries on disguises. He hopes that means she’s feeling particularly happy and not extra cage-y. “I thought this one would be like your kryptonite or something.”

When Steve doesn’t react she crowds up into his space and jabs him with an elbow. “Steve, you got to get out, live a little. Have _fun_. It doesn’t have to lead to true love or forever or whatever it is you’re so scared of. _Socialize_.”

“I do socialize.” Steve says, affronted. “I get along with you and Bruce and Sam. And on a really good day Tony.”

She smiles, “I mean, Steve, socialize with someone you’re not going to be leading into battle.”

He makes a noise, “I do! When I first met Sam we had a very nice conversation-“

She silences him with a look. If she was chewing bubble gum right now she would’ve snapped it. Once Steve looks away she says, “My point. Come on, it’s just one little date. It’s not a big deal Mr. Stuck Up. I’m trying to give you a chance to have a real and honest connection with someone who’s life isn’t going to be in your hands. That’s _really_ important, Steve.”

And this is raw honesty, less and less rare for Natasha… but still. He can’t meet her eyes.

“It’s one little date with a cool guy. He’s even got the same reserved, hold them at arm’s length attitude you've got.”

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?”

“It means you probably won’t find him annoying. And, bonus, you’ll have something to bond over.”

Steve just rolls his eyes. He can’t tell, at this point, if saying ‘no’ is just a reflexive habit or if he actually doesn’t want to.

He sighs and nods.

Natasha pumps her fist in the air and fills him in on the details.

 

 

They’re meeting at a pizza joint by the mystery man’s work. Clint, when he hears of the plans, badgers Steve into agreeing to bring him a box of their pepperoni back with him. “They got the best damn pizza in New York.”

“I thought Di Fara sold the best pizza in New York.”

“Aww,” Clint mocks, “You really do listen to Tony. But that’s bullshit. This is the best place. But you got to keep it a secret.” Clint actually puts a finger over his mouth.

Steve just shakes his head at him. “Alright, Clint, I’ll bring you back some pizza.”

Clint offers him a fist bump, “You’re the best, Steve.”

 

 

The restaurant is on the first level of an apartment building under going some construction. When he enters the waitress’s eyes widen when she catches sight of him, but her composure doesn’t slip.

“Reservation for Romanov.”

“Right this way. Your companion’s already arrived.” She shows him to a table crammed in the corner, away from the speakers and most of the other patrons.

The man already sitting there tilts his head at Steve’s approach. It reminds him of the way Clint, when he’s not wearing his aids, is - following the activity and flurry of a noisy party. Once he’s seated and the waiter’s left with his drink order of, “Coke, pepsi, whatever you’ve got.” (He notices that the man’s already got a glass of water.) He can take a deep breath and take in his… date.

He’s… well there's a differently a reason why Natasha started her pitch about him with “So there’s this _really_ attractive guy”. He has brown hair, and when the light hits it a certain way it seems to burn with powerful hues of red-orange. Though the color might be a trick of the light and the man’s dark red glasses… it’s not something Steve would have been able to see before, in his other body. He has a strong nose which is complemented by the shape of his glasses… and Steve’s not even sure how to describe his lips. He’s dressed well in most of a dark suit, a tie no where to be seen and his jacket dropped over the back of the chair.

“Matt Murdock.” The man offers his hand.

“Steve Rogers.” He shakes. It seems weird and overly formal both for the date and the setting. But maybe it’s not. He still doesn’t really get the whole ‘blind dating’ thing. It just seemed like a recipe for awkward. He can’t tell if it feels more or less so when the man doesn’t react to him… well, being _Steve Rogers_. It could be the standard New York attitude for rubbing elbows with the famous or it could be that he doesn’t recognize Steve. Which _rarely_ happens now a days with his face splash across the internet and the release SHEILD files confirming is identity.

“So, um,” Matt says, “The um, orchestrator of this event was very vague about you.”

“Nat?” Because that doesn’t actually sound like her.

A flash of confusion crosses Matt’s face. “Um, no. Josie. You’re not one of her friends?”

“Ah, no. Nat, she probably is though. So, uh, what did Josie say about me?”

Matt laughs, “It well… ah… come to think of it, I don’t think she said anything about you at all.” Matt gives him a self-deprecating smile. “She bullied me into this by reminding me I have basically no social life to speak of. My only friends work with me.” His face falls a little and he stammers, “That- that sounds really bad.”

Steve laughs, “No, don’t worry, I know exactly what you mean. The last person I made friends with outside of work ended up changing careers and becoming my co worker.” _And running around the world helping me hunt HYDRA._

Matt smiles, thinking of Karen. It’s not quite the same, client to co worker, but it's close. “So what do you do?” He latches on to the opening.

“I’m ex-military, I work in security now. So Nat tells me you’re a lawyer.”

He smiles and laughs a little nervously, “Yep. I’ve got my own firm, Nelson and Murdock. It’s slow, but at least we can afford to keep the lights on. At least, that’s what my partner tells me.”

And… that last sentence is just confusing. Since Matt’s smiling Steve chuckles.

The waitress saves them from an awkward silence by appearing, pad of paper in hand, to take their order.

“A slice of cheese and a side of fries.”

“Ah, I’ll have two slices of pepperoni.”

She takes Steve’s menu.

“So do you come here often?” Steve asks, relieved that Matt’s lack of menu was because he knew what he wanted and not that he’d ordered before Steve’d arrived.

Matt gives a little half shrug, “Fairly often.”

“My friend says they have some of the best pizza in New York.”

“Your friend's right.” Matt says, “Though, you’d have to have a pretty refined palate to know something like that. It’s usually the fairly classy joints, or the ones that stride the line between lower and middle class, you know, the ones with ‘character’ that get that title.”

“I was told you weren’t a fan of gentrification. As a point of endearment.” Steve clarifies.

Matt smiles.

“Though” Steve muses, “Your, and I quote, ‘reserved, hold them at arm’s length attitude’ was also mentioned as being a positive trait.”

Emotions flicker across Matt’s lips, from annoyed to confusion to tentative amusement.

“I was told it was something we could bond over.”

That earns him another laugh and the last feelings of unease fade away. He can finally breathe without feeling like there’s a weight on his chest.

“Well, your friend, Nat? She must really know how to sell people.”

“Yeah.” Steve agrees. “It’s like her super power.”

“Well, if we’re counting suits of armor in that list now, knowing just how to present someone has to count as one of those.”

 _That’s not even the half of it._ Steve thinks.

Their pizza arrives. Steve watches Matt take a bite. His face blanks out in bliss for a second.

“It’s good?”

“Mmmm.”

Steve laughs and tries it himself and… “Wow.” He says, and laughs hearing the breathy quality to his voice.

“So you do have a strong palate.” Matt sounds pleased.

“Yeah. I kind of have… really sensitive senses. It’s mostly a pain but.”

“Yeah?” Matt says. It’s a vulnerable, genuine whisper of emotion. And it just guts Steve. It’s the man behind the charismatic, laid-back mask.

“Yeah. Wasn’t much fun over seas. Or at home. Clint, the one who told me this place has the best pizza, he says he misses the smell of rotting sewage when he’s kept up inside for too long. I just can’t understand it.”

Matt has a beautiful smile.

“But good pizza, the smell of high end perfume, the _sunsets_. They almost make up for it.”

And the smiles gone. The “I know what you mean.” is distant but no less honest for it.

Steve returns to eating. They somehow start up conversation again, politics, sports (though that subject is quickly dropped since Matt’s not interested and Steve is still disillusioned from finding out about the Dodgers) and tv.

“You don’t watch TV?” Steve says. TV, color TV, was one of his favorite past times of the new millennia. AVATAR was an artistic _masterpiece_.

“I don’t even _own_ a TV.” Matt says, and something in his voice is laughing at Steve.

“No?”

“Nope. You sound so scandalized.”

Steve’s smiling so hard his face hurts. (Nat would tell him it’s because he’s out of practice.)

 

 

At the end of the night Steve says, “I hope you don’t mind if I pay the bill.” (Matt’s pleasantly surprised, and doesn’t.) and, “This was really great, we should do it again sometime.”

Matt fiddles with his phone before handing it to Steve and saying, “Put yourself in my contacts and take my number.”

He does, taking out his own phone to add Matt Murdock.

 

 

Matt’s pulling on his jacket when Steve says, “Should I, um, walk you home?”

Matt smiles, “That’s nice but not necessary.”

“It’s probably not out of my way.”

“Then by all means, offer me your arm.”

Steve does, Matt grips it just bellow his elbow. “You’re really tall.” He says.

Steve laughs.

He walks Matt home like that with Matt giving him directions, including street names, and trailing a half step behind him.

At the door to his apartment Steve mills about, trying to determine if he’s supposed to kiss Matt. If Matt wants to be kissed.

He settles on a, “Goodnight, see you soon?” Once Matt’s unlocked the door.

“Goodnight, Steve.”

He was going to have to ask Natasha what the general rules of dating are. It hadn’t been anything anyone had thought to update him on.

 

 

On his subway ride back to Midtown Natasha texts him.

“How it go?”

“Fine.”

“Details, Rogers.”

“It was nice.”

She sends him a frowny face.

Steve takes pity on her, “/He/ was nice.”

“;)”

He laughs at that emoji, a second later he gets, “Told you.” 

Then a, “But really, what happened?”

And he, trying to think about how to honestly answer that, can’t think of something to say.

After a bit he types out, “We talked a lot. He’s funny. Sweet.”

“Yeah?”

“And he doesn’t own a TV.”

“Nat, I thought basically everyone owned a TV.”

“…”

“Stevie, honey, sweetie, Matt’s BLIND.”

He stares at that last text for a while, mouth slightly open. Because, yeah, dark sunglasses on inside, not taking a menu, Steve actually _guiding_ him. And he hadn't noticed.

“Awkward.” He texts back.

“I’m laughing at you.”

“I know.”

“I kind of deserve it.”

“You do, you do.”


	2. Moar?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been up for less than two hours and I already have people asking for more. I tried to make this multi chapter when I wrote it but I had a hard time taking it anywhere. This is the only attempt that I actually kind of like. I hope inspiration hits me because I'd love to write Matt finding out that Steve is /that/ Steve Rogers. And bounding over disability. So here, have this in the mean time.

Foggy greets Matt in the office with a clap of his hands and a shout of, “Matty!”

“Foggy.” Matt chuckles at him.

“So how was last night? Jossie told me all about her devious plans.”

“Last night was good.” Matt flutters about the office, resting his cain out of the way, hanging up his jacket.

“Oh tell me more, what was she like?”

Matt goes to open his mouth, realizes that 1.) He doesn’t know what to say and 2.) He really likes Steve. Like giggly school girl crush likes Steve. He laughs a little at himself. “Um… We had quite a bit in common. He has some sensory processing stuff as well.”

“I’m nodding, keep going.”

“He’s um, ex-military. Not a fan of sports, which, hay, men like that are really rare.”

“Matt.” Foggy’s voice is all… sappy.

“What?”

“You’re ears have gone pink.”

Matt reaches up to feel them. He thinks maybe he should have a better hold on himself than this but… fuck it, it’s Foggy. “Last night was _really_ good.”

“So are you going to call him back?”

“Uh... I think so. Yeah.” He tires to pull his smile under control but it's hard when Foggy jumps and wolf whistle.


	3. A Proper Continuation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how you keep talking more out of me.

Matt fidgets, twisting his fingers in the hem of his T-shirt, waiting for a knock at his door. He takes a deep breath and tries to smooth the wrinkles out of his shirt. He strains to listen for anyone out on the landing. (No one.) And sighs. It is ridiculous to be this wound up for a date. Especially since he’s 32 not 16.

And there’s the knock, a few rapid, sturdy taps.

He grabs his cain where it’s resting against the wall and answers.

“Hello, Matt… um…”

Matt smiles. He hadn’t been sure after their last outing if Steve had known he was blind and was just going to Not Talk About It or if he’d been exceptionally clueless. The pause, where Steve must be thinking, “Should I introduce myself? Does he know it’s me?” clears that up. “Hello, Steve. Why don’t you lead the way?”

Before he can reach out, Steve brushes the backs of their hands together. It’s a much more effective way for Matt to find the grip he needs. Someone had to teach Steve that. He wonders who and when. Did he google it?

They walk to the event (Matt doesn’t remember what it’s called and the description Steve had given, “It’s this set up in Central Park. All these restaurants have little tents and they sell little dishes of their food. And it’s like a festival? All these people come and mill about. It um… sounded like fun?” didn’t lend itself to a descriptive phrase.) in silence except for Steve's occasional, “Curb here” and once at the subway, “Stairs going down, a lot, then a landing, then more stairs.” “The railing ends before the last step.” 

It prompts Matt to ask, “During our first date, did you realize I was blind?”

“Ah.” Steve says, sounding embarrassed, “No. I was texting with Nat on my way home and she told me.”

Matt laughs. “It’s refreshing, actually.”

“Yeah?”

“Most people just don’t know how to be around me. I’ve gotten very good at defusing awkward conversations. I feel like I’m constantly mediating everyone’s interactions with me. It’s annoying.”

“Yeah.” Steve says, thoughtful. “I can see that.”

He fidgets and Matt says, “Did you want to say something else?”

“Uh, no.” He lets out a small exhale. “Nothing.”

 

 

They reach the park which is awash with sound. Children screaming, reckless teenagers jockeying around each other - elbowing through their own paths, and the fog of sound from hundreds and hundreds of people talking. 

“Where’d you like to start?” Steve asks him.

“Uh. Anywhere.”

Steve leads him to a place that smells like barbecue sauce and grilled meat. He orders and a few minutes later hands Matt a small paper plate with a rib on it. He picks it up carefully and struggles to tear off a strip. Before he’s even got a bite properly pulled off the bone his mouth is watering It smells _so good_. And it taste even better. “This is very nuanced for a piece of meat.” He tells Steve.

“Mmm-hhmm.” Steve replies and it sounds like his mouth is full as well.

They maneuver out of the way and keep strolling through the park.

And this was a _great_ idea. The food is fantastic and Matt picks all the places, really paying attention to his sense of smell. Maybe even showing off a bit. “Let’s go to the place that smells like chili powder. This? No, this isn’t the place, I think it’s a few over. Yeah, here.”

“How can you pick out individual scents like that?”

“I pay attention. It’s not an exact science or anything. I mean everything so close it _does_ blend together.” He stops trying to explain it.

“Okay. Where next?”

Once the sun’s set and Matt’s described, “The temperatures dropping, the birds are starting to settle down. The sort of… ambient _feeling_ has changed. The air smells different.”

“Is it beautiful?

“Yeah, it’s really beautiful.”

And the parks mostly empty, and they’re struggling to split a drum stick. “This was a bad idea, why did you think this would be a good idea?”

“Because who sells drum sticks? It’s like a grade A horrible idea for a festival like this. They didn’t even give us a plate. It just had to be fantastic.”

“A fantastically horrible idea.”

“Exactly.”

Someone runs up to them. “Steve, there’s an emergency.”

Steve hands him the slippery piece of meat. He grasps Matt’s arm. “Can you get home from here?”

“I can take the train, it’s not a problem.” He can feel his face crease in concern and can feel his walls coming up. Cold, controlled neutrality. It’s what this situation needs.

“They’re not running right now.” The person says, probably a woman.

“But-”

“ _Emergency_.”

… A city wide emergency, not a family one. 

He imagines Steve and her are exchanging a look. Steve says, “ _Nat_.”

“He can stay at the tower. I can take him to the tower.”

There must be more meaningful looks because the silence drags on and Matt doesn’t know what to do or say.

After a while Steve sighs and says, “Where’s my shield?”

“Sam has it, he’ll be over this way in… four minutes. I need to randevu at the tower anyway… Matt.” She adds.

Matt offers his hand and she takes it. After some jostling he’s got the right grip on her arm to be led. She’s much shorter than Steve, his knuckles are almost in her armpit. “Can we do a fast walk?”

“Are there stairs?”

“No.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Her “Curb, curb, curb, door.” Is much more clipped. When he realizes she isn’t stopping for traffic he uses his cane as well, just as a signifier. _Hay, blind guy over here being led by the crazy lady. Please don’t run me over._

She crashes his knees into a sofa when they finally make it to wherever it is in “the tower” she wanted to be. He falls into it, disgruntled and annoyed. “What’s going on?” He asks.

“Who’s this? Did I say we could have civilians up here? Why’s he here?”

The unfamiliar voice makes him jump. And Matt’s been concentrating to construct his world on fire a little bit since the woman, Steve’s friend, _Nat_ first appeared but now he really focuses. It feels a little like fight or flight, especially in the mayhem and tension of the last few blocks. There are three other heartbeats in the room.

Nat says, “Steve’s date. Ignore him, we’ve got work to do.”

The man who spoke walks (silently) over to Matt and waves a hand in front of his face.

“That’s rude.” The third person says.

“Banner, we won’t be needing you on this one.”

“Well I hope not. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Tony doesn’t spontaneously combust.”

“Why would I do that, Brucie?”

“Because you don’t get to play with your toys or because there’s a very interesting stranger deposited on your sofa. Take your pick.”

“You’re no fun. No fun at all. Hay, what’s your name.”

“Matt.”

“Hay Matt, so you’re- ow!”

The third person ‘Brucie’ laughs.

“Did Nat just hit him?” Matt asks, knowing that’s what happened, hearing the elevator chime a few seconds later.

“Yeah. He deserved it. Nat just left by the way. It’s me and Tony in the room right now.”

“I’m not going to be calling you ‘Brucie’.”

“You don’t get to call him cupcake either. Those are my names for him."

“I’m Bruce.”

Matt’s mouth is suddenly dry. “You’re the Avengers?” He says.

“Yep.”

“So Steve Rogers is… _that_ Steve Rogers.”

“Yeah.” Bruce says, “Captain America.”

“So what’s going on, his he in danger?”

“We just found a sort of… group of alien scouts. They were trying to determine how well defended earth is. So Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Clint are all going to show them that we’re not worth messing with while Tony and I monitor things here. They’re not in much danger. Throwing them around and reminding them that we defeated Chitauri should scare them off.”

Matt sighs and settles into the sofa. “So I… wait here.”

“Yep. Unless, Tony could probably have someone drive you home, if you’d rather. The whole thing though, probably won’t take more than a few hours. It’s just really urgent.”

“So.” Tony plops down next to him, “You’re Cap’s mystery man.”

Matt grits his teeth but eventually nods.

“What’s he like in- ow! You two are no fun.”

“Tony you’re supposed to be working.”

“Doing what? Everything here practically runs itself.”

“There’s no reason I couldn’t take the latest Iron Man suit out there.”

“The fact that JARVIS says it’s not quite ready is a very good reason.”

“Who’s JARVIS?” Matt asks, doing a quick head count of the avengers and major SHEILD personnel.

“Resident AI.”

“Tell me more.”

He’s treated to Bruce’s genuine and Starks bored, monotone, and snarky explanation of JARVIS. Tony rattles off technobabble while Bruce explains it in English.

He’s starting to drift, listening to Bruce and Tony work.

“What if we-”

“Brilliant.”

“Hardly.”

“No, really, genius.”

“ _Tony_.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

“And then we can-”

“Yeah. That looks-”

“Perfect.”

“Yeah. And the thrusters-”

“Uh-huh.”

“It should withstand-”

“But are you _sure_?”

“Well you’ve never let me run any tests, sunshine.”

“That’s a bad idea and you know it.”

“Yeah, but I love bad ideas.”

“You’re a bad idea.”

“So are you. My point exactly, anyway.”

“You think you’re so cute.”

“You put the ‘u’ in cute.”

“I- what? That- that barely makes sense. You’re losing your touch. Back to this, we need to increase the-”

“Integrity of the outer shell?”

“Exactly.”

“JARVIS, run some tests.”

“But then the-”

“Yeah that won’t-”

“Yeah.”

 

 

When he wakes up it’s to Steve shaking his arm and whispering, “Matt. Matt.”

He comes to consciousness easily, though disoriented. “What time is it?” He yawns.

“Midnight. We were out past nine.”

“That your superhero curfew?”

“Yeah… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s what you wanted to” Matt realizes, “On the train?”

“Yeah. It was nice, you know. Knowing you thought of me as just a regular guy.”

“Same. And I’ll keep thinking of you that way. Although, I will need to tell my best friend, Foggy, he’ll be-” Matt yawns through the end of his sentence.

“Do you need to get home?”

“Not strictly, no.” Matt says, putting something sly in it. 

Steve leverages him off the sofa.

“You’re um, welcome to-”

Matt cuts him off with a very clumsy kiss, hitting only the corner of Steve’s mouth and smashing is nose into the other man’s jaw. Steve fixes it, hand on Matt’s jaw so they’re aligned better. It's a very sweet kiss. 

When Steve breaks away, still close enough his breath tickles against Matt's lips his says, “You sure?”

“Well if you can’t trust Captain America, who can you trust.” Matt says it with snark and sarcasm, but is completely genuine when he says, “Lead the way.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We still have one more section that I've been talked into. Maybe two. Steve finding out about daredevil and maybe _maybe_ Foggy meeting Steve in person.
> 
>  _maybe_ Natasha giving the shovel talk to Matt. God. That one just occurred to me. 
> 
> I don't know how you talked so much more out of me. I don't see, after what I have planned, how they'll be more.
> 
> Also sorry this has never been adequately marked as complete or incomplete. I really did not intend to go past chapter 1.

Foggy calls Matt while he’s on the subway back to Hell’s Kitchen.

“Hey, how’d your date go?” 

“You couldn’t wait until I was in the office to ask.”

“Well… I could, but your not actually _in_ the office right now. And you’re usually here before me… And, Matty, is that… a _train_ your on. It’s sounds like your on the train.”

“I am.”

“ _Matthew_.”

Matt starts laughing at Foggy’s mock scandalized tone.

“Okay, but seriously, was the reason you spent the night alien related or romance related?”

“A little of both, actually.”

“Okay, explain.”

“You’re not going to believe me.”

“Oh? Why not.”

“Because Steve’s last name, it’s _Rogers._ ”

“… **No.** ”

“Yes.”

“No way!”

Matt starts laughing again. “I knew this would make your day.”

“ _Make my day_ , Matt, you’ve made my week! My month! My year! My life! Ohhh!”

“What’s that about?”

“I, Franklin Foggy Nelson will get to give Captain America the shovel talk.”

“Steve doesn’t need a shove talk!”

“It’s my duty as your best friend. I have to. No one is aloud to break my best friends heart. Not even my childhood hero.”

“Oh, Foggy.”

“I love you to Matt. Hey, can I tell Karen? And when are you going to bring up the whole, you know _daredevil_ business.”

“You can absolutely tell Karen.”

“And daredevil?”

“Matty, healthy relationships are built on mutual honesty and trust. You know he’s Captain America.”

“I want to tell him-“

“Uh!”

“Bu-“

“Uh! Uh! No ‘buts’ Matt. No ‘buts’.”

“Foggy, I- er. Fine, I’ll… think about it.”

“Good. Glad to here it.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of me is like "I should spread these updates out to stratigically get more views."  
> And the other part of me like "I just want to be fucking _done_ already"  
>  The second part is bigger.

“They have a hostage.”

Steve grits his teeth, observing the ware house through night vision goggles. “Acknowledged.” He lays out the plan. Clint’s in his perch, cover most of the exits. Thor’s got the other side of the building. Tony’s on the roof, fiddling with… something.

“There’s definitely chitauri tec in their, Cap.”

“Go, then.” He slings up his SHEILD and weaves through the maze of parked and abandoned cars to get to his point of entry.

“I have visual on the hostage.”

“Status?”

“Steve… it’s Matt.”

Steve swears.

“Status, Romanoff!”

“He’s, mobile… fine. He’s fine.”

The plan falls apart shortly after, what with explosions and the heads of one of those leviathan creatures piloting itself like it’s got a body. It’s hard to worry about anything other than himself and the team in that kind of chaos.

He didn’t even notice another super hero had joined the fight until after the dust settled.

“Natasha, what’s the status on the hostage.”

“Natasha?”

“I lost track of him. I’m sorry, Steve.”

“Who are you?” He hears Tony ask.

When they regroup a man in… a devil costume is trailing behind Tony, guarding his ribs.

“You’re that Daredevil dude!” Clint exclaims when he sees him.

Daredevil nods, waves.

“Avengers.”

“We’d you come from?” Tony asks.

“He lives around these parts.”

“And how do you know that?” Daredevil asks Clint.

Clint shrugs, “I read the news. Come on, you micromanage like ten blocks it wasn’t hard to figure out why.”

“Hmm.”

“Who is this guy?” Tony asks again.

“Vigilante, Tony, don’t you pay attention. Or have JARVIS watch the news for you?”

Tony hurmphs.

“I mean, for real, he took down Fisk just like… a month ago. I thought you’d at least care about news when it comes to your fellow billionaires.”

“Why?” Tony sneers.

“Hey.” Steve interrupts. “We need to clear out so SHEILD can step in. Isolate… whatever the hell all that was.”

They part ways.

 

Steve gets a call later, he’s expecting one from Natasha, to tell him if she’s found Matt. When the building collapsed… well. But his caller ID tells him it’s the devil himself.

He scrambles to hit the call button, all the frantic emotion he’d suppressed welling to the surface.

He doesn’t say anything.

Neither does Matt.

The other man’s breathing is loud and measured.

“So.” Matt says, then clears his throat. “I’m- I’m okay.”

“Glad to hear that.”

“Is this a secure line?”

“Yes?”

“Like, not being recorded? Be SHEILD or the NSA or anyone?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Why?”

“Because… um, I’m also Daredevil.”

“Steve.”

“Steve you there?”

“Yes, yes, I’m here. Are your ribs okay?”

“What?”

“Sorry, um, when I saw you, after the battle, you were guarding your ribs.”

“Oh! Yeah, I got patched up by a friend.”

“Okay… Just so long as you’re okay.”

“Yeah.” Matt’s sigh crackles in Steve’s ear. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, before. It just never seemed like a good time.”

“Oh, believe me, Matt, I know.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Thanks for calling me.”

“Yeah… You’re welcome. Bye?”

“Bye, Matt.”

Steve immediately calls Natasha.

“Matt’s okay.”

“Yes?”

“He’s also Daredevil.”

“…”

“Natasha?”

“Natasha! Oh my god, did you know? You let me think he was buried under half a building and you fucking knew!”

“I thought it was important he tell you.”

“Jesus, Nat.”

“Don’t take the lords name in vain, Steve.”

“God! Fucking! Natasha!”

“I’ll see you at breakfast, Steve.”

He hangs up. Then screams, just a little bit, into his pillow.


	6. Chapter 6

There’s someone in his apartment.

He doesn’t know she’s there, her heart rate is so slow, until she says, “Hello, Matt.”

He startles so hard he jostles his ribs. “Natasha.”

“We need to have a serious talk.”

“I gathered.”

“Sit.”

He sits.

“Did you know you’re the first person Steve’s _really_ kissed since 1945?”

“What?” He was expecting _serious talk_ to be about the SHEILD and chitauri secrets he’d discovered during his latest adventure.

“You’re the first persons Steve’s kissed since 1945.” Natasha repeats.

Matt licks his lips. “I didn’t know that, no.” He hadn’t really thought about it, in all honest. He’s the first since Peggy Carter. It’s some big shoes to fill.

“No, I didn’t think you did.”

“Is this… is this the shovel talk?”

_He’s being given the shovel talk by an ex-Russian spy, super assassin, and super hero. The hell has his life come to?_

“Don’t break his heart.”

She gets up to leave.

“What prompted this?” He asks.

“Steve knowing your daredevil.”

Well… okay, even though he hadn’t _chosen_ to tell Steve, it still seems like a pretty big display of commitment.

He swallows.

“Goodnight, Matthew.” She lets himself out.

 _I know where you live._ Matt mouths. He bursts out into hysterics, half helpless giggling, half hyperventilating.

 

“Foggy, I need you to give Steve that shovel talk?”

“Why?”

“Because I just got one from Natasha.”

“What’s his number?”

Matt tells him.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not feel I can write Foggy's shovel talk and do it Justice. You can probably image better.  
> But I mean, I also thought this was only going to be one chapter long. Look what you've done to me.
> 
> \--
> 
> Feel free to message or follow me on tumblr at dusty-soul.tumblr.com


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